Living Death
by voidmalarkey
Summary: In which Jenna Sommers has a daughter.


**CHAPTER ONE**

CHILL MYSELF?

 _ **"A**_ _n hours drive to hear that crap," a young man, Darren Malloy, complained to his girlfriend as he let out a scoff of disbelief. "You know, it wasn't even a band. Just a guy with a guitar. An hour - each way."_

 _Brooke Fenton, the blonde-haired girl sat next to him in the passenger seat, rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the small smile that spread across her pretty features. "Oh, come on!" She chided, slapping him playfully on the shoulder. "He wasn't that bad."_

 _"He sounded like James Blunt," Darren retorted, a look of distaste on his face._

 _The young lady crossed her arms, feigning offense. "And what's wrong with that?" Brooke questioned, raising a brow._

 _"We already have a James Blunt," Darren explained. "Trust me when I say that one is all we need."_

 _Brooke adverted her gaze from him to the window next to her, looking out to the dark scenery going past them. "Then why did you come?" She muttered. "What was the point in going if you were just going to complain?"_

 _"You really wanna know why?" Darren turned his head towards his girlfriend, glancing at the road out of the corner of his eye, keeping a steady hand on the steering wheel. "I came to that stupid concert because I love you."_

 _Brooke narrowed her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. "Hmm, nice save."_

 _All of a sudden, a cloud of mist began to roll by, growing thicker and thicker with each passing minute, shrouding the car's view. Watching as the white vapor swirled around the vehicle, Brooke couldn't help but frown. "What's with all the fog?" She mumbled, confused._

 _Darren looked back in front of him, squinting at the clouded view he was now seeing. "I don't know..." he flipped the knob on the lever for the windshield wipers. "But it'll probably clear in a minute or two, don't worry."_

 _The blonde's eyes widened at the sight of a silhouette in the midst of the fog in front fo the car. "Watch out!" Brooke shouted, pointing to the silhouette._

 _At the sound of Brooke's yell, Darren slammed on the breaks, just not fast enough to stop the man in the road from colliding with the front of the vehicle and his body from tumbling over the hood and onto the pavement behind them._

 _On instinct, Darren yanked the steering wheel, causing the SUV to skid across the road and come to a screeching halt. Letting out a breath of air he was holding, he turned to his girlfriend. "Are you okay?" He asked, concerned._

 _Brooke was obviously not okay, beginning to panic. "We just hit someone! Oh, my g-d," she whispered in horror, feeling the tears trek down her cheeks._

 _"Holy shit." Darren mumbled, running his hands over his face, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread at just how real this was. He let out another deep breath, trying to calm himself down, searching his brain for some sort of solution. Clearing his throat, he reached into his front pocked for his cell, and handed it to Brooke. "Call for help," he ordered, before exiting the car._

 _Nodding numbly, the blonde dialed 911 with her trembling fingers, as she waited for it to start dialing, she peered through the windshield, trying to look for anyone, but the fog was still thick and she couldn't see a damn thing. Brooke let out a frustrated yell when she pulled the phone away from her ear, seeing that there was no signal._

 _Behind the car, Darren headed towards the injured man, who was laying on his back in the middle of the road. Crouching down to see the body, trying to see if he was still alive. "Please be alive," he muttered. Grabbing the man's hand, trying to find a pulse, he froze when he saw a strange, but distinct ring on the man's finger. His brows furrowed. He glanced back at the face, but it was still to dark to see anything._

 _All of a sudden, the man - who was, apparently, not dead or injured the slightest - reached up to grab Darren's head, tilting it and exposing his neck. Gleaming in the moonlight, white fangs elongated from the mysterious man's mouth and he ducked his own head down into Darren's neck, piercing the flesh, a sickening crunch sounding._

 _Back in the SUV, Brooke let out a huff of breath, frustrated. Throwing the phone to the back, she unbuckled her seatbelt and exited the vehicle. "There's no signal!" She called out to Darren, only to be responded with silence. Brooke froze, her body becoming rigid with the feeling of fear running through her veins. "Darren?" She called. "Darren?"_

 _Hearing a slamming sound cut through the silence of the eery night, Brooke spun around, just in time to see Darren's dead body slam onto the hood of the SUV, his neck torn apart like it had been savagely ripped out. At the sight of her boyfriend's mutilated corpse, a shriek of terror climbed its way out of her throat. Acting on instinct, Brooke didn't waste anytime running away as fast as she could, panting as she tried her best to catch her breath whilst running._

 _Sprinting down the silent highway, a horrified scream echoed throughout the dark as she just wasn't fast enough to escape whatever was out there, her body getting yanked off the ground and her throat, too, getting savagely ripped out._

 **...**

 **| B** rooklyn Sommers woke with a gasp, clutching her erratically beating heart and running a hand through her messy bed hair - a result from tossing and turning throughout the night after yet another nightmare.

They seemed to happening often, more than usual since the return to Mystic Falls these past few months. Each dream was not hot guys on unicorns, no - they were plagued with death and despair. Each time they seemed to get even more terrifying than normal.

Brooke knew she couldn't tell anyone, even if she felt like screaming and crying out for help, she couldn't. That was, unless she wanted to be locked up in a room with padded walls and deemed as the town's newest nut-job - they had old man Jenkins for that.

If there was one thing about Brooke, she liked to be in control and for once in her life - these nightmares were the first thing she couldn't control. All she wanted was for them to stop, she didn't know why she was having these night terrors; she just knew she hated that she couldn't control it.

But Brooke wasn't just going to let these terrors swallow her whole. No, she was a strong, independent woman just like her mother. For once in her life, Brooke was experiencing something that she couldn't control, it was just something she had to deal with, even if she didn't exactly want to.

The young teenager glanced at her alarm clock next to her, seeing it was almost time to get up anyways, just a little earlier than what she wanted. Too afraid to close her eyes again, the strawberry blonde tossed the covers off her body and shivered as her warm feet touched the harsh chill of the hardwood floors of her purple-colored room.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly rushed her way into the bathroom, Brooke prayed that a nice hot shower would wash away her worries and ready her for the rest of the day. After all, it was the first day back to school, the perfect day to make a statement and Brooklyn Sommers never _didn't_ make a statement.

 **...**

"Elena?" Brooke knocked softly on her cousins door, hearing nothing in response. "Elena." This time she knocked harder.

"Go away!" Elena shouted, putting a pillow over her head. She was so not ready to get up, Elena always hated waking up early. And at that moment, Elena felt herself missing her dad coming in to make sure she was awake.

Opening the door, Brooke walked over to her cousin and ripped the blankets off her. "Get up," she ordered, playfully poking her cousin's butt. "Now." The brunette groaned, tossing the pillow away and lazily getting up from her bed.

"Is there a reason you're waking me up at-" she glanced at her alarm. "six-thirty in the morning?" Elena glared at her cousin, she didn't have to wake up for another thirty minutes!

Brooke grinned. "Take a shower, I'm picking your outfit out!" Shoving her cousin towards the bathroom, smirking at the curse words she could hear being muttered. "I can hear you!"

"Good!" Elena shouted back, shutting the door behind her as she got herself a warm shower running.

Within fifteen minutes, Elena was out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body as she came back into her bedroom, finding her cousin in her closet still. "Mmm, pass. Pass. Let me see. Pass. Pass. Uh, pass on all of it. Elena, respect for your taste is, uh, dwindling by the second," Brooke said, a look of distaste on her face. "I taught you better than this."

"Really haven't had time to go shopping in Fells Church, Brooke."

The strawberry blonde shook her head. "That's just an excuse," she glanced at her cousin to see her looking away with a bashful look, she smirked. "You're lucky I'm your cousin."

Looking back at Elena's clothes, Brooke pulled out a pretty floral white and pink shirt to go with a pair of light wash skinny jeans and a pair of light pink flats. "This I can live with." She chuckled, tossing Elena her clothes for the day. "If it gets cold, please use this." Pulling a grey cardigan off the hanger, she tossed it to Elena who just caught it. "Now, get going."

With that, Brooke left her cousins bedroom, peering into Jeremy's to see him just getting up. "Morning, Jer." She greeted with a smile, earning a sarcastic one back. Brooke rolled her eyes, going to her room to quickly finish getting dressed herself. What would her cousins do without her?

 **...**

"Toast!" Jenna Sommers announce, staring into the refrigerator. "I can make toast," she claimed, although her tone suggested otherwise.

Elena Gilbert shook her head at her aunt and sent a grateful smile for how much effort she was putting in for all of them. "It's all about the coffee, Aunt Jenna." The brunette teenager was quick to retort, pouring herself a cup of the steaming, caffeinated drink from the machine.

At the sound of heels clicking, they both turned their heads to see Brooklyn Sommers, Jenna's daughter, descending down the stairs in her typically stylish outfit, making her way through the kitchen in confident strides. The strawberry blonde passed by Elena, looking at her up and down before snatching the cup of coffee from her hands. "Love the choice of clothes," she winked with a playful smirk. "And thanks for the coffee."

Elena scoffed, but smiled nonetheless. She could never be mad at her cousin, Brooke was just too... Brooke. Grabbing another mug from one of the cabinets in the kitchen, she poured herself another cup.

"Is there coffee?" Came the voice of Jeremy Gilbert, a brown-haired boy dressed in dark clothes, smudged eyeliner lining the rims of his eyes, and his nails covered in dark, chipped black nail polish - who was, without a doubt, going through his goth faze.

A frown appeared on Brooke's pretty features as she took in her other cousins choice of clothes. What _would_ they do without her? She didn't blame her cousin, but she didn't agree with it. Taking a small sip of her coffee, she let out a sigh, turning to the "Breaking News" alert that was flashing on the small television in the dinning room - her eyes widened at what she saw: two individual pictures of the very familiar couples underneath the headline of "Young Lovers Killed".

Swallowing roughly, Brooke couldn't believe it. Normally, she wouldn't think twice of the news, but as she stared at the television with wide eyes, she felt terror flood into her veins. How did she see their deaths? How did she _dream_ them? They weren't just any random young couple that were murdered in her dreams, no, they were _very_ real and _very_ dead. She wasn't going crazy.

Frozen and in shock, Brooke could barely form a sentence, just a quite and horrified. "Oh, God."

Frowning, Jeremy turned to his cousin and raised an eyebrow. "You okay?" He questioned, his tone of nonchalance suggested that he was uninterested, but from the look on his face, his concern was evident. Sure, he was numb from the loss of his parents, but his family meant everything to him. And he definitely had a soft spot for his cousin - the girl who comforted him during the summer when he cried himself to sleep.

Brooke looked up, instantly shaking her head at Jeremy. "Oh, nothing." She assured him with a fake smile, dismissing his worries. "I'm fine."

Nodding his head, Jeremy let it go, although he didn't exactly believe her.

"Your first day of school and I'm totally unprepared," Jenna scolded herself, digging into her purse that seemed to be a never-ending pit of junk when she was looking for something in particular, she'd have to as Brooke to organize it for her sometime. "Lunch money?" She offered, nervously. It was hard enough to juggle her grad school classes and handling her one child - who was, thank god, independent enough to fend for herself - but raising three teenagers was a lot, and she just wasn't sure if she was strong enough to do it.

Elena shook her head. "We're good," she smiled, replying for all of them.

Jeremy scoffed, snatching all of the cash from his Aunt's hand. Knowing that lunch money was not going to be lunch money, Brooke narrowed her eyes at her cousin. He wasn't planning on buying "lunch", unless you counted drugs as a meal.

"Anything else?" Jenna asked. "A number two pencil? What am I missing?" She frowned, trying to think to herself. There was something... just what was it?

Brooke thought to herself for a moment, snapping her fingers. "You're big presentation's today, isn't it?" Jenna gaped for a moment, before nodding.

Glancing at her watch that was clasped around her pale wrist, Jenna's eyes widened. "Now! Crap!" The older women let out a frustrated groan.

Brooke chuckled, shooing her mother away with a smile. "Go," she whispered, encouragingly. "We'll be fine."

With a grateful smile, Jenna snatched her bag from the kitchen counter and stumbled out the front door, nearly tripping over her own feet as she made her way out. "Love you!" Jenna called to her daughter.

"Love you, too!" Brooke yelled, smiling at her mom who smiled at her and was gone in a flash.

Elena turned her head towards her brother, unable to suppress the concern for her younger sibling. The doe-eyed girl reached out to clasp a hand on his shoulder, hoping to comfort him somehow. "Are you okay, Jer?" She couldn't help but ask.

Jeremy shook her hand off and let out an annoyed scoff, sending his sister a dirty look. "Don't start." With one last glare in her direction, Jeremy made a dramatic exit out of the house with a loud slam of the door.

Brooke sighed, looking at her cousin with a reassuring smile. "He'll be fine," she pursed her lips and muttered a quiet, "eventually," under her breath.

 **...**

Sitting in the drivers seat of a Jeep Liberty, which was making its way down one of the main streets in the small, suburban town, Brooke drove her way to the high school. The earlier thoughts of the couple creeped back into her head as she nagged her phone from her purse that was sitting in the passenger seat, glancing at the road as she typed in "Young Lovers Killed Mystic Falls" into the search engine.

Quickly, she tapped the first link and found herself glancing at the road and back at her phone as she read the text. _Couple were driving down highway 29, a main road into Mystic Falls, when Darren Malloy (29) and Brooke Fenton (26), had hit a deer and had stopped to see the damage._ A cover story, Brooke thought to herself as she glanced back at the road and to the phone. _We believe that a mountain lion had been chasing the deer and the young couple just happened to be there at the wrong time._

Before Brooke could finish reading, something slammed into the windshield. And much like Darren had done in Brooke's dream, the strawberry blonde jerked the steering wheel to the side and slammed on the breaks, causing the Jeep to skid across the road. "Oh, my G-d!" She breathed out, her phone forgotten on the floor as she placed a hand over her heart. "What the hell?"

Furrowing her eyebrows, Brooke glanced at the windshield closer to see a lone black feather. "A freaking crow?" She muttered, glancing to see the exact crow perching on a street sign, staring at her with a cocked head. _"Little bastard,"_ Brooke mumbled, glaring at the bird and calming herself before vowing that she would _not_ drive and read again.

 **...**

As soon as Brooke arrived, she was greeted with students bustling through the halls of Mystic Falls High School, all eager to greet and catch up with friends they hadn't seen all summer. Meanwhile, Brooke caught up with Elena and Bonnie, smiling at them as they strutted down the hallway, observing their old classmates and newcomers.

"Freshmen," Brooke grinned, eyeing the ninth graders. "Ton and tons of freshmen."

Elena raised an eyebrow. "You mean, fresh boys," she retorted. "Brooke, they're fourteen."

Brooke waved dismissively at her cousins judging tone of voice. "Eh, some are more mature than others." She smirked at one freshmen that had been staring at her, her smirk widening as he flushed, earning claps on the back from his friends.

Bonnie shook her head at her friends. "Brooke, what would we ever do without you?" The strawberry blonde looked at her friend, pondering her thoughts for a moment.

"Crash and burn."

Elena and Bonnie scoffed, both of them playfully slapped Brooke's shoulders. "What a friend you are." Bonnie chuckled, bumping her hip with Brooke's. The girl giggled, nodding.

"Major lack of male real estate," Bonnie commented, her eyebrows furrowed as she glanced around the halls, spotting a girl in a horrid dress, she cringed slightly. "Look at the shower curtain on Kelly Beech. She looks like a hot - can I still say "tranny mess"?" She asked, stopping at her locker.

Brooke rolled her eyes, letting out a small laugh. "Hun, that's over. And offensive."

Beginning to open her locker, Bonnie muttered, "Ah, find a man, coin a phrase. It's a busy year."

"Ah, I see Matt." Elena smiled at her cousin and best friend. "See you two later." And before the two girls could say anything, the brunette was bouncing towards her boyfriend and wrapped up in a very PDA kiss.

Brooke cocked her head at the couple, leaning against a locker. "I feel really left out right now." Bonnie rolled her eyes, smiling at her friend.

"You're not alone there, Brooke."

 **...**

Brooke walked next to Bonnie as they made their way around the hallways to see everyone, listening to Bonnie as she explained what her Grams had told her the other day. "So Grams is telling me I'm psychic. Our ancestors were from Salem, witches and all that, I know, crazy, but she's going on and on about it, and I'm like, put this woman in a home already! But then I started thinking, I predicted Obama and I predicted Heath Ledger, and I still think Florida will break off and turn into little resort islands..." looking over, Bonnie saw that she had lost Brooke as she was talking. Following the strawberry blonde's line of gaze, she smirked.

Bonnie now saw what Brooke was staring at - a really hot back with a leather jacket on standing in the front office. "Who's this?" Bonnie asked, looking at her friend. Brooke shrugged, shaking her head, unable to tear her eyes from the man. She felt slightly on edge with his presence, like he was something else...

"I don't know."

"He's hot."

Brooke looked at her friend. "All I see is back."

"And a well-sculpted back, that is," Bonnie added, humming under her breath in appreciation. "I'm sensing Seattle," she commented. "And he plays the guitar."

Brooke let out a laugh. "We're still on this psychic thing?" Bonnie nodded. "You're really gonna run this whole psychic thing into the ground, aren't you?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, Brooke's gaze followed a figure walking their way into the boy's bathroom. She let out a frustrated sigh, muttering in disappointment. "Jeremy, of course." Brooke looked at Bonnie. "I'll be right back."

 **...**

"Woah!" A guy by the urinal complained. "Pants down, chick!"

Brooke rolled her eyes, facing the boy with her hands on her hips. "Get out," she ordered, sternly, pointing towards the door. "Or I will make your social life a living hell!"

"Okay, okay," he raised his hands. "I'm leaving."

Brooke scoffed and headed towards Jeremy, who was at the sink, putting eyedrops into his bloodshot eyes, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the pot on Jeremy. Grabbing his face, she looked straight into his eyes and scoffed. "Great," she muttered, annoyed. "First day of school and you're stoned!"

Jerking his face from her hands, Jeremy scoffed. "No, I'm not," he denied.

Brooke raised an eyebrow. "You're swaying, the blood vessels in your eyes are dilated, you reek of marijuana, and you're lying straight to my face right now." She deadpanned, pursing her lips. "Nice try, Jeremy, but those are all clear indications that you're under the influence."

Jeremy shook his head and frowned at Brooke. "Whatever," he mumbled.

Seeing he was distracted for a moment, Brooke began to dig through Jeremy's sweatshirt pockets, trying to find his stash. And once again, he jerked away, but his older cousin was not giving up. "Where is it?" she demanded, angrily. "Is it on you?"

"Stop!" Jeremy snapped. "You need to chill yourself, all right?"

Taking a deep breath, Brooke closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. "I am trying to save you from Elena's wrath, Jeremy." She narrowed her eyes at him. "'Chill myself'"? She repeated with a scoff. "What is that, stoner talk?" She rolled her eyes and mocked, "Oh, dude, you are so cool!"

Jeremy pushed his cousin away, frustrated, but she stood her ground and, once again, began searching him. "Stop! Stop!" He complained. "I don't have anything on me! Are you crazy?"

"I gave you a summers pass, Jeremy. I protected you from Elena's wrath enough. Now, I won't be there to protect you. Do you really want Elena's "Hell-Hath-No-Fury" crazy on you? Because I won't be afraid to tell her every little time I made sure you could smoke it up without anyone knowing." She clenched her jaw, before calming herself. "Jeremy," she spoke, soothingly this time, trying to get though to him. "I know who you are, and it's not this person. So, don't be this person."

Jeremy's eyes softened, but his change in demeanor only lasted a moment. Letting out the tenth scoff in the past few minutes, he pushed past his cousin. "I don't need this," he grumbled, stumbling out of the bathroom.

The strawberry blonde stood at the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath before laughing to herself. "'Chill myself'?" She rolled her eyes, mocking Jeremy as she walked out of the bathroom, only to crash straight into a solid chest.

Brooke's light green eyes met a pair of forest green ones as she saw the person she bumped into was an extremely gorgeous guy - with a well-sculpted face, forest green eyes, and prefect styled dark hair that reminded Brooke of "hero hair". All in all, he was stunning. Elegant looking and seemingly ageless - much different in appearance compared to the other boys of todays generation.

"Pardon me," he frowned, apologetically, peering over Brooke's head and squinting his eyes at the sign on the door. "Um, isn't this the mens room?"

Brooke looked back at the sign and to the attractive male in front of her, she laughed nervously. "Uh, long story short... let's just say that my cousin has some serious delinquent issues." She explained. "We're going for the embracing, yet effective, tough love speech."

He smiled at the strawberry blonde, shifting to the side to let her pass. "In that case, don't let me keep you." He winked. Brooke chuckled, beginning to walk forward, but the mysterious guy seemed to do the same, blocking her way. Chuckling, she shifted to the other side, but so did he, and the two bumped each other again.

"Here," he offered, moving completely out of the way for Brooke.

"Thanks," she smiled, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she made her way down the hall and to class.

 **...**

"Once our home state of Virginia joined confederacy in 1861, it created a tremendous amount of tension within the state. People in Virginia's northwest region had different ideals than those from the traditional deep south. Then Virginia divided in 1863 with the northwest region joining the union..." Mr. Tanner, Brooke's AP World History teacher, explained about the Confederacy.

Brooke wasn't listening much, having already read a good majority of the textbook to get a head start over the summer, currently occupied with doodling in her notebook. Next to her, Matt Donovan, her cousin's boyfriend, leaned over and curiously eyed her drawing. "Wow, Tigger, that's really good."

She hummed, continuing to draw. "You think?" She muttered, continuing her sketch.

Matt nodded, impressed. "It's amazing, Brooke," he whispered with a smile. He couldn't quite make out what it was, he frowned. "What is it?"

The girl frowned, tilting her head at the drawing in her notebook. "Just something I've been drawing." Truth be told, she hadn't had the slightest clue of what she had been drawing: it was a simple image of something that had been stuck in her mind the past few days. A pentagram, she mused to herself. "I think it's a tomb," she murmured.

From the other side of the room, Stefan Salvatore, who sat eavesdropping on their conversation, furrowed his eyebrows, but flinched and stopped listening once a loud (at least to his ears) buzzing sound emitted from Brooke's purse.

Grabbing her phone from her bag, Brooke gazed down at the device in her hands, seeing Bonnie sent her a text.

 **HAWT-E STARING U ;)**

Looking up, Brooke spotted just what Bonnie had said: the guy from this morning was gazing at her, she smiled sheepishly in response. With a slight flush to her cheeks, the strawberry-blonde let out a nervous chuckle as she shook her head and continuing her drawing.


End file.
